The Relationship
by understar
Summary: She gets what she wants. She gets what she wants, and nothing more. (One-shot, OOC, one-sided SakuSasu)


Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

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_**The Relationship**_

The sun smiles through my window, frowning at me and me alone with its darkly cheerful eye. Sometimes I get the feeling that it doesn't like me, you know? Or maybe it's just jealous. They're _all_ jealous, every single one of them. They're all jealous, and vicious, and they're all watching me.

At least, that's how it feels, you know?

The sky is too blue and the grass too green on bright days like this one. Vegetation sprawls in sickening jade, a lazy layer of pond scum over soil. It seems hard to imagine, that my eyes are that same color. That I'm staring out of moldy emerald orbs, at a moldy emerald-and-turquoise world.

Then again, many things are hard to imagine. It's hard to imagine a pink-haired girl as a ninja, isn't it? More like something to be placed on a pedestal to be laughed at and ridiculed and tossed into the bin labeled 'freak' when people lose interest. Such short attention spans, these days. And you would be mistaken, because this freak is no pushover. Not anymore.

This freak knows how to get what she wants.

She got her Chuunin rank, and her Jounin rank, too.

She got her strength, and her skill, and her power of illusion.

She even got her Sasuke-kun.

Ah, yes. My Sasuke-kun.

Let's talk about him for a while, shall we?

He really doesn't seem to enjoy it, being caged down there in that dark corner of my mind. He crashes about and rattles the bars, and sometimes he'll wail like anything! He's a regular freak-show himself. He's never quiet, never still, always pacing or mumbling or talking to himself. He's always making noise. It's been ever so difficult to think, nowadays, what with his racket.

But maybe that's for the better.

I can hear him even now, writhing against the cold stone floor. Because it _is_ cold, you know. Everything is cold here. Everything is cold in my mind. He doesn't seem to enjoy that much, either. He is the Uchiha with the heart of ice, I explain to him. He makes it colder for himself.

He doesn't listen to reason.

It's odd, that Sasuke-kun appears so weak nowadays; the shell of the prodigy from a shell of the prodigy, and the prodigy itself nowhere to be found. Can you kill potential, just like that? I pride myself for being the first to try. He's so pathetic, so flimsy. Those chakra-draining chains twined around his pale arms.

Or maybe it's just that I've gotten stronger.

And I _have_ gotten stronger. Mentally, physically, emotionally. I don't crumble anymore. I don't succumb. Sasuke-kun doesn't know this. He pleads with me. He says that if I love him, I'll let him go. He says that if I love him, I won't keep him locked up here in this hell. And I ask him what's wrong with hell, because pain is gain and pain gives you power, and he'll look back at me so confused that it's flattering. And then it's back to torture.

Sweet, sweet torture.

Today, I wield a knife, because I don't feel too creative. It doesn't make a difference. This is my mind. Appearance means nothing. He does know that, I think. Just to spite him, I poke at his neck.

"Tell me, Sasuke-kun." My voice rings sweet, gleams clear.

"Tell me, Sasuke-kun." Another jab with the blade.

"Tell me, Sasuke-kun." He looks uncomfortable. "Am I beautiful?"

He doesn't know how to answer my question. He doesn't know which way to turn. I find it hilarious, the way he spins. He spins, and my knife spins, and his head falls onto the floor.

The cold, cold floor.

Another head rematerializes above the bony shoulders. Its expression is one of agony. Another twirl of the knife and it's on the floor once more.

And that's the best part about my mental prowess, I think, as I continue to spin the blade. I can chop it off, again and again, and it will always grow back. It's endless, this relationship.

His endless pain.

My endless revenge.

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And _my_ twisted, evil mind...

SasuSaku 'shippers: Please don't kill me!


End file.
